


Tell Me that I'm Fucked Up

by DaniJayNel



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Dark fic, Depression, F/F, Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, not a happy fic, self hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2018-12-27 18:27:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12086805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniJayNel/pseuds/DaniJayNel
Summary: Ymir can no longer trust the people in her life, and she feels as though no matter what she does or how hard she tries, she will always fuck up.Historia struggles to connect to people or to care for them the way they want or expect, and that leaves her feeling like a screw up, and like people hate her the way she hates herself.The two meet and somehow, through all the pain and hurt and insecurity, they make things work. They find their little piece of happiness in this bullshit called life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if you're triggered easily please don't read this. I'm going through some shit and this is just my way of dealing with it. projecting through yumikuri. thank god i have this

Ymir’s fingers trembled. She clenched her hands into fists, hopeful that they wouldn’t notice her trembling. Her heart was pounding and all she could do was swallow the dryness in her mouth and stare forlornly at her lap.

“… and that’s not even the first time!” Denise added tersely. She was seated beside Ymir, but Ymir felt more like a criminal standing trial.

“Is this true, Ymir?” their boss, Mrs Smith, asked. “I gave you this position because I believe in you. I hope you understand I am highly disappointed in this callous behaviour.”

As much as it frightened her, Ymir forced herself to glance up and meet her boss’s eyes. It was difficult to maintain eye contact, but she did it. Denise was glaring at her.

“I, um…” She wasn’t even sure what to say. “I’m sorry.” It came out more like a choke than a whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know?” Denise scoffed.

Mrs Smith sighed. “Look, Ymir, unfortunately something like this should be common sense to you. You should be aware of your own behaviour in the workplace. I think you should head home for the day and have a good think over things. We can talk again when you’ve reflected on your mistakes.”

Ymir clenched her teeth together. _What fucking mistakes?_ she thought, but she apologized again, bowed her head and then grabbed her stuff from her locker and hurried out of the building. She bit down on her lip and tilted her head back, praying for the tears to go away. There was no way she would fucking cry over something like this. She pulled her phone out and scrolled through her contacts.

Ymir had been injured on duty, and as a result had to take two weeks off work. She’d been home in pain the entire time, with no support from everyone. When she was finally healed enough to return to work again, she was suddenly called into her boss’s office. The assistant manager apparently had some complains, and Ymir’s boss totally ate them up. Ymir had been so taken aback when the both of them started complaining about her personality, her work ethic and her method of work. She always did her best to keep her head down and get shit done. She arrived on time, never late, abided by all of the rules and made sure she did the job she was hired to. The manual labour was tough sometimes, but it was just her job. She always thought she was nice enough to her co-workers and to their clients.

Apparently peopled complained that she was rude, and her co-workers complained that she slacked off sometimes. She had been recently promoted to supervisor, too, but apparently her boss didn’t even truly believe in her. Mrs Smith had always been super nice to her, and they had even personally spoken a few times when the warehouse was quiet. Ymir had shared some intimate information, and so had Mrs Smith, so this sudden attitude punched Ymir right in the gut.

She felt like the people she thought cared about her, actually really didn’t.

Still trembling, she hit call and paused underneath the roof of a bus stop. Her heart was aching and her breaths started to rasp in and out, faster and faster. She clenched and unclenched her free hand to distract herself from the anxiety, but it wasn’t helping. Above her a clap of thunder boomed in the sky.

“Hey Ymir.”

She swallowed. “Hey, Mike. I had to leave work early today. Do you think you could give me a lift home?” Her stomach pulled tight and she felt sick.

Mike sighed softly, making Ymir’s heart immediately drop. “I can’t right now, Ymir. I’m sorry.”

“No, that’s cool, really. I’m sorry for having asked you out of the blue, and at this time anyway.”

“Yeah. I have to go now. Good luck.”

“Thanks. Bye.”

He put the phone down. It started to rain and she moved until the roof was fully above her. The pattering of the rain matched the laboured heaving of her chest. She inhaled deeply to calm herself, mind racing with ways she could get home. The bus wouldn’t arrive until much, much later, when they knew work was over and people needed to get home. She worked out of town, so the road was deserted and no random busses passed by.

Ymir went through her contacts again and paused at a name. She fucking hated herself, but clicked on his name anyway because she was desperate. When he answered, she bit down hard.

“Hello?”

“Hey Connie. I’m sorry to bother you like this.”

“Holy shit, Ymir?”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause. “What do you need?”

Ymir hated herself. Of course he would immediately assume she only needed him for something. Even though that was the truth, she hated it. Connie used to be a very close friend, but after school ended and all of them scattered, Ymir had just found it difficult keeping in contact with anyone. She worked ten hours a day, almost every day and when she got home, she was so damn drained that all she could do was make dinner, clean her small mess, have a bath and then go to sleep. Sometimes she spoiled herself with a movie, but usually she was just too tired. She didn’t have the physical or emotional time for other people, even though she tried.

“I’m sorry dude, I’m just really desperate. I need a lift home.”

“Sorry Ymir, I’m out of town right now. You caught me at the worst time. I totally would help you out.”

Ymir covered her face with her hand. Of course. “No, I understand. Thanks anyway.”

“Sorry man.”

“It’s fine. Have a lovely day.”

“You too!”

She ended the call and put her phone back into her pocket. For a moment Ymir just stood there, staring out at the pouring rain. Her heart felt heavy and the anger was burning deep, deep in her gut. It built and fed itself until she was so damn angry that she lifted her fist and slammed it into her own face. The pain was satisfying in a way nothing else could be. Her shoulders heaved and her heart thundered, but steadily she calmed down and gathered as much of her cool as she could. When the rain lightened, Ymir zipped her jacket up and then she started to walk.

She didn’t care about walking. It would take her an hour if she walked quickly, and the exercise was good every once in a while. It was just too unsafe to do at night, so in times like this she felt really frustrated that she didn’t have her own transport and that she had to rely on other people like this.

_Not like I can rely on anyone at work anymore,_ she thought bitterly. Suddenly and powerfully, she felt like quitting. This wasn’t the first time she had experienced a problem at her work, but this time felt like something had shifted. The trust and comfort she had felt with Mrs Smith, and even Denise, was gone. Ymir felt like there was no way she could trust them or anyone else again. She knew now that in order to keep her job, she just had to watch each and every step she made and make sure she wasn’t fucking up without realizing it.

She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. No matter how hard she tried to satisfy the people in her life, she always seem to do the exact opposite. No one seemed to actually care that sometimes she felt like she was drowning, and all everyone else did was push her head beneath the water.

It took her an hour and a half to walk back into town and to her flat. By the time she climbed the steps to the third floor, exhausted and out of breath, she was freezing and soaked to the bone. She knew her phone was probably wet, too, and so was everything in her bag. Luckily she didn’t have many important things on her, besides maybe her wallet. She hoped her money was okay.

Sighing, Ymir stabbed her key into her door and struggled with the lock. It was rusted badly and the landlord kept promising to fix it, but never did. She always had to wiggle it around and kick the door a few times before the lock turned and she could open her door. When she was done kicking it and it opened, she heard a giggle to her side and glanced up to see her neighbour with his girlfriend. They were all over each other, kissing and fondling and rolling across the wall to his flat. She flushed hotly and quickly retreated into her flat, heart pounding.

An ache started between her ribs. Ymir was reminded of how physically alone she felt. She lived with her sister, Ilse, but Ilse wasn’t the sort of person that liked any form of physical affection. Ymir dumped her back and jacket by the door and walked into the lounge, where Ilse was sitting reading a book.

“Hey,” she greeted softly.

“Yo.”

“How was school?”

Ilse sighed. “The usual. Sucked.”

She wished that she knew what else to say, but she didn’t. Instead she went into the kitchen to flip the kettle on, so she could make a hot mug of coffee to just warm herself up. In the sink there was a pile of dirty dishes, some from as far back as a week ago, and Ymir stopped stiffly in the doorway. Her anger returned.

“Ilse, couldn’t you at least do the dishes?”

She heard Ilse scoff. “I was tired from school, Ymir. There’s no way I can do any cleaning when I’m that tired.”

Her anger flared. “You get home at fuckin two in the afternoon,” she yelled. “You can nap for like an hour and then take a bit of time to just fucking clean. I can’t do everything in this house!”

Ilse slammed her book shut and stood from the couch. “You’re always so quick to point out what I don’t do, huh? You never notice the things I actually _do_ in this house.”

“That’s not the fucking point!”

“You’re being a dick. I’m leaving.”

Ilse put her shoes on, grabbed her wallet and then stormed out the flat. Ymir stared after her, blood boiling. It was a dump, petty thing to get so angry over, but it just… it fucking hurt. She worked so many hours just to keep this awful flat for them, so that Ilse could finish school and get a job of her own to support their bills. Ilse did nothing more than eat the food Ymir paid for, sleep in the flat she provided and complain about the things Ymir couldn’t afford to buy her. Ymir loved her sister. They’d escaped a pretty abusive house before coming here, but sometimes Ymir wondered why she even fucking tried if Ilse could never just go the extra mile and clean once in a while. She did so little to begin with. It was infuriating.

Ymir was exhausted, but she did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. In between she drank her coffee and ate a sandwich she had made, and then she took a quick shower and plopped down on the couch.

One thought was so loud in her mind that she had to close her eyes and just clench her teeth hard.

_I hate myself._

XxX

Historia hated herself.

Her smile probably looked fake, but it was the best she could muster. Uncle Alder wasn’t catching a hint, though, and he kept babbling on about things she really didn’t care about. She tuned out most of his drunken slurring, anyway. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tugged her closer to him, but she pulled away from his touch, skin crawling.

“Aw, Historia darling, what’s wrong?” His blue eyes flashed with hurt that was supposed to make her feel bad.

“I’m sorry, uncle. I’m not feeling so well. I might go and lay down.”

Uncle Alder narrowed his eyes. “You barely even spent time with me! Last I really saw you, you were as high as my knee.” He gulped the last of his beer. “Wish you were still that cute little kid.”

She hated his words, but she apologized for being so cold and made her way through the crowd. Somehow the Reiss family was huge. Historia hated these gatherings, though. She was expected to be like everyone else and to socialize, and to care about the lives of her many family members. She just didn’t. She hated being forced to even be in the same room as them, and feeling this way made her hate herself.

She slipped back into the mansion and escaped to the piano room, where she knew no one would be loitering and hopefully no one would find her. She collapsed on the small guest couch and just stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes felt heavy suddenly, so she closed them and let the distant chatter of her family melt away until she was just about to fall asleep. Someone opened the door and stumbled inside, a second person giggling.

“Oh shit, Historia is in here!”

They giggled again. “Quick, before her coldness gets to us.”

Historia didn’t even have the energy to check and see who it was. They closed the door and stumbled down the hallway, but their words hung in the air. Historia’s stomach churned, anger filling her lungs and chest, burning her throat. She angrily turned onto her side and tugged hard on her hair, satisfied with the pain.

She pulled her phone out, saw over twenty unread messages from her various social media, but just put her phone off.

_Leave me alone,_ she thought, tears gathering in her eyes. _Please just stop expecting so much from me. I can’t do it anymore._

Her tears started to fall, and she no longer had the strength to stop them. She just curled into a ball and cried softly into the cushion of the couch, long into the night. No one came to check on her, but she was fine with that.

XxX

Sasha was one of the friends that Historia really cared about, so she actually tried to be genuine with all things that concerned her. So when Sasha invited her to a party, Historia accepted even though her every instinct wanted her to say no.

She had hardly slept the previous night, so she looked like a walking corpse. Not to mention that she had recently lost a lot of weight, because she just couldn’t eat. She had no appetite. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten something. Still, she tried to dress nicely and make herself look pretty, the way people expected her to. When Sasha answered the door to let her in, she was more than ecstatic.

“His’! You made it. I’m so happy.” Sasha pulled her in for a tight hug. “I know how you struggle sometimes. I’m glad to see you getting out a bit.”

Historia forced a smile. “Anything for you, Sash’. You know that.”

Sasha tucked a lock of hair behind Historia’s ear, making her blush. “I love you lots, you know that, right?”

Historia’s smile vanished, but her heart warmed. She and Sasha had dated briefly, but there just wasn’t enough that Historia could do. She had been a terrible, vacant girlfriend. Sasha had needed so much attention that Historia had struggled to give. Constant texting and calling and hanging out, and the stressful expectation of sex had been too much. Sasha was so sweet, though, and Historia was very confident that their breaking up had been the best thing for Sasha, even though it had hurt her so badly because she had really loved her. Sasha deserved better. Way, way better.

“Drinks are in the kitchen. I didn’t invite too many people. I have to run around and mingle again, but I’ll rotate back to you, alright?”

Historia nodded and smiled, then watched Sasha rush away to greet someone she hadn’t yet. Her smile disappeared and she hesitantly walked through the kitchen to the back balcony. Sasha lived on like, the sixth floor. Her flat was pretty nice, though. She had a pretty nice balcony that overlooked the city, so whenever Historia visited she liked to go out there and stare down at the city below her.

It was nice and cold out, and though there were a few people standing about chatting, Historia felt much better being there than inside with even more people. She mostly ignored them and retreated to the far corner of the balcony, where she could wrap her fingers around the railing and just stare down, imagining the long drop. Would it really be so bad if she just, fell over the edge? Would she even feel anything?

A soft sigh to her right drew her attention, and she realized with her heart dropping that she had been thinking about suicide again. She looked to her right, already preparing a fake smile to go with her pretty girl façade.

And that was when her eyes locked with burning brown, and how she came to know and love Ymir, the girl that would save her life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for a lot of suicide mentions

“Is this spot taken?”

Her voice was monotone and quite vacant, but there was something in it that made Historia feel instantly at ease. Her smile never even formed, and instead of saying anything she merely shook her head. The woman was pretty tall—much taller than Historia—but her shoulders were slumped and she turned towards the railing. She popped earphones in, leaned her arms on the metal railing and then just stared out at the view. Historia couldn’t resist openly studying her face, even though she realized too late that she was being obvious and it was rude.

The woman turned to give her a look, an eyebrow raised. She looked beaten down and depressed, a mirror to how Historia felt. Beneath her eyes were dark circles, and her cheeks look a little hollow.

“Is there something on my face?” she growled. Bad mood, it appeared.

Historia swallowed. For once, she didn’t feel deterred by being spoken to. “Just your face,” she tried.

The woman stared. After a moment it became a little weird. Then a lot weird. “You look dead,” she bluntly stated.

Historia’s eyes widened and her mouth popped open. “Excuse me?”

The woman snorted. “All that makeup? Can’t hide it.” She turned away and sighed, popping a single earphone out. She took her phone from her pocket and started scrolling through a playlist of songs. “Sorry. I’m not in the best mood.”

Historia turned away from her to stare at the street below. More than ever the drop seemed tantalizing, but she tightened her grip on the railing until her hands turned white and hurt. “It’s okay.” They fell into silence, the sort Historia usually craved, but she found herself hoping this mysterious stranger would speak to her again. Even if it was an insult, Historia wanted to hear her talk again. Rarely was someone ever this honest with her. She thought about her family and her fake friends, and she bit down hard on her lip. “Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to just jump?” she blurted out. By the time she realized exactly what had just left her lips, it was too late.

Instead of giving her a weird look or leaving, like she should have, the stranger actually laughed. “Like freedom.” She sounded completely and utterly serious.

“You really think that?”

“I mean, I’m sure the fall itself would be shit scary, but it would be over so quickly. And then just… splat. Nothing. All your worries, gone. Your life? Gone. Hello darkness my old friend.”

Historia giggled. She slapped a hand over her mouth in horror, but the stranger wasn’t perturbed by her laugh. In fact, it made her smile a little. For the first time in her life, Historia didn’t feel angry at herself. She felt… pleased. “That’s a pretty dark outlook.”

“What? You brought it up.” The woman eyed her. “My name is Ymir. You a friend of that idiot in there?”

“Sasha?” She looked back through the doors and spotted Sasha in the kitchen, talking excitedly to someone and also stuffing her face with pizza. She smiled softly to herself. “Ex girlfriend,” she supplied. “But we’re still good friends. And I’m Historia.”

“Well, Historia, it’s nice to meet you. If you ever feel like jumping off a balcony, I’m definitely your girl to jump with.” And then she winked, and Historia’s heart skipped a beat. She started giggling again, then the giggle turned into a full belly laugh, and Ymir even joined in. It suddenly started to rain, the black sky darkening a touch, flashes of lightning slicing through the sky. Everyone hurried back inside, but Historia and Ymir remained, laughing together as the water soaked them. When they quieted, Historia realized that she did really want to jump off the balcony, but she also really wanted to stand there forever with Ymir and just enjoy a small moment of peace.

“That’s so fucked up,” she choked out with a grin.

Ymir shrugged “Again, you’re the demented one for bringing it up. I was just adding to your genius.”

“Do you seriously want to, though?” Historia couldn’t stop herself from bringing the conversation to a dead halt. Ymir’s grin melted away and she stared down again, now gripping onto the railing. For a second Historia felt a jolt of panic that Ymir really was about to just throw herself over, but she didn’t. Water trickled down the side of her cheek and the column of her throat. She swallowed.

“I do,” she admitted very quietly. “Sometimes, I really do. But I can’t. Not yet, at least.”

Historia nodded. “I get it.”

“I’m sure you do.”

They remained there until Sasha found them. She was absurdly upset that they were just standing in the rain, so she pulled them inside and shoved towels into their hands.

“Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you two?” Sasha exclaimed, cheeks puffed up. “I thought Ymir was bad, but you too, Historia?” She shook her head. “Unacceptable.”

Ymir sighed. “Admit it, you’d be glad to be rid of me.”

Historia’s eyes widened slightly, but Sasha only laughed and then punched Ymir in the arm. “You’re a sack of dicks. Don’t ever say stuff like that. You know I adore you.”

A sad, forlorn look took Ymir’s face then. “I know. I’m sorry.”

The look Sasha was giving her was definitely a look of deep, profound love. Historia wondered briefly if they were perhaps together, but Sasha was a really physical person, and there was no way they wouldn’t have kissed yet if they weren’t dating. For some reason Historia felt a relieved breath pass her lips.

“At least the two of you seem to get along,” Sasha added. “I wanted to introduce you earlier, but I couldn’t find either of you.” She smiled. “My two best buds, hitting it off. I’m a proud mama.”

Historia lifted a brow. “You wanted to introduce us?”

“Yeah!” Sasha looked between them. “Oh, come on. You’re both painfully single and deathly depressed, and I just felt like maybe you needed to meet. I met Ymir from her work,” Sasha told Historia. “And Historia and I go way back to high school. We used to bang,” she said to Ymir. “Now, are the two of you friends? Are you going to hook-up? What’s the situation?”

“We’re more like…” Ymir paused and sent her a look. Her lips twitched, and for some reason the words _suicide buddies_ filled Historia’s mind, but she didn’t dare say it out loud. Somehow, Historia got the sense that Ymir was thinking it too. “Emo acquaintances, or something.”

Sasha groaned. “You’re a dork.”

Ymir shrugged. Even though she was smiling at Sasha, she still looked profoundly sad. It emanated from every inch of her—her outfit, her posture, her complexion and her face. Mostly, it was her eyes. Historia wanted to hug her.

Sasha left them standing there, dripping water onto her expensive carpet, but they were fine with it even though they were cold. Historia didn’t say anything more, and she knew Ymir wouldn’t either. It was a comfortable sort of silence. When Historia pulled her phone out and held it out, Ymir took it without question, put her number in and gave it back.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then they flashed tiny, sad smiles.


	3. Chapter 3

Ymir’s alarm woke her at 7 a.m. exactly, but she simply laid there and wondered what the point was anymore. She could hear Ilse in the kitchen, getting ready for school, so she forced herself to climb out of bed and pull some clean clothes on. When she entered the kitchen Ilse was just about to leave, but she paused by the doorway.

“Morning, ‘Mir,” Ilse said softly. Her eyes darted to the floor. Ymir felt too vacant to really care what the problem was this time. “Are you working today?”

Ymir put two slices of bread in the toaster. “Yup.” She took out peanut butter and apricot jam, then stood there and stared at the toaster, waiting. Ilse didn’t say anything more, and she soon disappeared out the front door. Ymir only realized that she had left when she heard the front door close. The toast popped out then, startling Ymir—as it always fucking did—and she angrily lathered the spreads on, frowning.

“Fucking toaster,” she grumbled to herself.

Once finished coating her toast, she put them in a lunch box and cleared the crumbs off the table. She turned to clean the butter knife and finally noticed that all the dishes had been done. A rare, happy smile filled her face. Ilse had done the dishes. It was a small thing, but it meant Ilse was guilty from their last fight, and this made Ymir feel like Ilse really did care even though she acted like she didn’t most of the time. It was miniscule, but it lifted Ymir’s spirits slightly. She left the flat feeling a little bit lighter.

Ymir put her earphones in once she was on the bus and took a seat in the front right by the window. The music blasted into her ears and she stared at the road as it whizzed by, eyes glazing over. Thankfully no one had taken the seat beside her despite it being right in the front, so the ride to work was mostly uneventful. The bus arrived, she hastily climbed off and then made her way into the warehouse. Her job was mostly moving stock inside of the warehouse when it came in from the factory. Ymir was in charge of making sure the staff followed safety procedures when loading and offloading stock. Someone could get fired on the spot for just making one dumb mistake, so Ymir was proud of herself for managing to keep her job for over two years straight. She had been very lucky to get this job right out of high school.

Ymir pressed her lips together when she entered the staff room and found Denise and Mrs Smith chatting. She remembered the unpleasant meeting, the judgement from Mrs Smith, the unnecessary angry tones. Her stomach clenched tight, but she ignored it and shoved her bag into her locker. She took her hard hat and identification card out, putting it around her neck.

“Good morning Ymir,” Mrs Smith greeted her cheerfully.

Ymir swallowed. “Morning.” She forced herself to sound cheerful, but not overly. She wanted to appear unaffected, but in reality she was very much distancing herself from not only Mrs Smith, but everyone. She just hoped no one noticed.

She immediately went to work even though she had ten minutes before she was supposed to officially start. She just wanted to be out of that room and away from their eyes. It was easy to lose herself in the work. Ymir found new stuff to do, cleaning, packing, transporting. She did work that was below her position, but the newer workers were more than happy to let her do it and watch her. She was still training some staff, and she made sure to keep it all completely and utterly impersonal. She would be nice and tell them if they did something well, but she would also tell them when they did it wrong. Everyone seemed to appreciate her, but she wasn’t dumb enough to believe they were being genuine.

Just before her lunch hour, a young worker ran up to her, looking nervous. “Ymir?”

Ymir paused checking over a stock list and turned to him, brows furrowed. “Yes, Thomas?”

He perked slightly at the use of his name, but quickly looked to the ground again. “Um, Mrs Smith told me to tell you that there’s a woman in the office demanding to see you. It’s your mother.”

Ymir’s entire body felt like it had just been drenched in ice cold water. Her throat dried up and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Oh, uh… will you hold onto this for me until I get back?” Thomas nodded and took the clipboard.

Ymir barely felt her legs as she jogged over to the office. Her mind and heart started racing, and she felt like she was going to be sick. When she reached the office, she had to pause and just inhale deeply through her nose to calm her nerves.

_It’s just your mother,_ she told herself evenly. _Remember the promise you made to yourself. Don’t let this get to you. It doesn’t matter. You moved on from it. You can do this._

She straightened, firm in her decision, and pushed the door open. The second she saw her mother’s tired brown eyes, her breath wavered and her heart gave a pulse of pain.

“Ymir,” she said in a slur, face brightening like a child. She stood from her seat and stumbled over, but Ymir immediately stepped away from her to avoid a hug.

“Don’t touch me,” Ymir told her sternly. Ymir’s mother took a step away, eyes wide with hurt. It was all so real and genuine that Ymir fucking hated herself and her mother and everything. “What do you want?”

Ymir’s mother didn’t say anything at first. Tears started to build in her eyes, but Ymir forced herself not to care, not to let it get to her.

“Can’t I come and see my baby girl after so long?”

Ymir gritted her teeth hard. Mrs Smith was sitting at her desk, staring curiously at them. Ymir didn’t want her to see this scene or to hear what was going on. Mrs Smith knew the general situation, but Ymir didn’t trust her with it anymore.

“Let’s not do this here,” Ymir pleaded. “Let’s go outside.” She looked at Mrs Smith. “Is it okay if I take my lunch hour a bit early?” Mrs Smit nodded, so Ymir left the office, her mother close on her heels. They silently left the warehouse and stepped into the blazing sun, but Ymir was sweating just from her nerves. “So what do you really want, mom?”

Her mother looked towards the ground. “You’re not happy to see me. And I made so much effort to come here.”

Ymir bit down on her tongue. She could see that her mother was living on the streets again. Her hair and skin were dirty, and looked skinny and gaunt and her clothes were ripped and stained. In her hand she gripped a single bag, one that most likely contained the important things that she needed.

“I didn’t ask you to come here. I told you last time never to visit me again. Did you think I was joking?”

Her head shot up, eyes dripping tears now. “But you are my daughter, Ymir! I love you!”

“No you don’t.” Ymir’s hands clenched into tight, shaking fists. “You only care about yourself and what you can get from people. Now tell me, what do you really want?”

She looked away and remained silent for a long, long moment. Ymir didn’t dare say more. She hoped that her mother would be offended enough to just leave, and even though Ymir knew it would hurt badly to watch her walk away, she had to do it. But her mother never made a visit simply because she suddenly tapped into her motherly instincts. It made Ymir’s stomach boil with anger.

“I’m staying by Al again,” she finally admitted softly. “I was wondering if you could just help me out with a bit of money. Just a little bit and I’ll be gone.”

Ymir felt like she had just been slapped. “Uncle Al?” she said, astonished. “You’re staying with that asshole again? Why the fuck would you do that?”

Ymir’s mother looked up now, anger on her face. “At least he didn’t attempt to murder me, like you and your sister!” she yelled.

Ymir’s face flushed. “Mom, you know that makes no sense. We tried to help you. But you didn’t want to stay on your meds. We couldn’t live with you or Uncle Al anymore.”

Ymir’s mother rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes. This supposed ‘bipolar’. Everyone keeps trying to tell me that there’s something wrong with me. Everyone is just trying to take my life away from me!”

Pain, sharp and visceral, rolled through Ymir’s body. She herself wanted to cry, but she held it all in. “Fuck off,” she said softly at first. Her mother looked at her. “I can’t talk to you when you’re batshit crazy. Get away from me. Don’t ever fucking come here again. I never want to see you again. Do you understand me?”

The tears were all gone now, and in its place was an expression of judgement and contempt. Ymir stared at her mother and wondered who this person was. “I should have left you at the hospital,” her mother spat with venom. “You’re no daughter of mine.”

She turned sharply and left, leaving Ymir’s heart in pieces. Ymir watched her mother walk down the street, in her hobo clothes and her dirty appearance. It hurt down to her bones.

Ymir felt anxiety fill her body. Her heart was pounding, her stomach was churning and burning. She tried to even her breathing, but nothing was working. She stumbled over to the side of the warehouse and collapsed against it, arms coming up to shield her face. She started sobbing then, deep, aching sobs that shook her entire body. Her tears were hot and burning as they slid down her face. Ymir stayed there for a long time, hyperventilating and hating every aspect of her painful life. She felt like everything was falling apart. And then her phone dinged softly and she paused her crying and sniffing to check her messages.

Historia (Emo Buddy): _I was thinking that I could really use that jumping off a building bonding you mentioned before. How about it?_

Despite her anguished emotions, Ymir felt herself smiling. She slid to the ground and shakily typed out a reply.

Ymir: _With how I feel right now, I wouldn’t mind frolicking into traffic either_

Historia (Emo Buddy): _Life is fucked up, right? I know we’re joking, but part of me actually wants to. I really want to._

Historia (Emo Buddy): _I’m sorry, that went too deep. Forget I said anything._

Ymir wiped the tears from her face. She inhaled shakily

Ymir: _No, it’s okay. I feel the same._

Historia (Emo Buddy): _Aren’t we a pair of sad sacks?_

Ymir: _We should call ourselves the Depressed Pairs. Dress up like emos, make a band or something._

Historia (Emo Buddy): _That actually made me laugh. Thank you, Ymir. I’m sorry for bothering you like this. I don’t usually message people._

Ymir: _I’m here anytime. Might not have the right things to say, but I will always try. And you helped me too. More than you’ll ever know._

Historia didn’t respond for a long time. Ymir wondered what had happened to make Historia message her like this, but she didn’t ask. Historia was free to tell her if she wanted, and since she hadn’t yet, clearly she didn’t. Ymir thought that maybe Historia was done talking to her, so she put her phone away and stood, dusting sand off her pants. Then her phone dinged again.

Historia (Emo Buddy): _Thank you for being you. I’ll leave you to it. Have a nice day, Ymir._

Ymir smiled. She typed out a similar message and hit send. She still felt awful, and knew that her face was a mess and her eyes were red. Her lunch hour had ended a while ago, so there was that too, but knowing that Historia was out there, probably just as put down as she was, somehow made Ymir feel better.

Like she had a friend. Someone that knew what she felt. Someone she could share her darkest thoughts with. She filed that away, pushed thoughts of Historia into the back part of her mind, and returned to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should probably mention that if this fic gives you pain, makes you sad or uncomfortable, then it should. This fic is me. This is my life, my struggles. These are things that have happened to me and are happening. Sure, not all of it is verbatim. I will of course twist things around to suit the story, because this is not a biography, this is just putting my own pain into a YumiKuri story. This is personal. Very personal. So please read with care.

**Author's Note:**

> will edit some other time, so excuse any errors. didnt have the energy to read through this


End file.
